


Misinterpretation

by piginawig



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: A little angst, Leaning more toward book characterization, M/M, and then fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: A prompt from Tumblr:"I'm only here to establish an alibi."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 163





	Misinterpretation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small prompt fill that became a little too long for an ask post :)

Eddie jumped a mile when his apartment door swung open, the knob hitting the wall where a dent was already forming. The door slammed closed just as quickly, and the room was suddenly filled with the sound of Richie’s panting breaths.

“Dude?”

“I’m only here to establish an alibi,” Richie said, as though that was a normal thing to say.

“I’m sorry?” Eddie squeaked.

“Listen, the less you know the better,” Richie told him. “Plausible deniability and all that.”

“ _Plausible denia_ \- Richie, are you crazy? Did you do something illegal?”

“Well people don’t need alibis for the legal things, so...”

Eddie lowered his voice to a panicked whisper. “Did you kill somebody?”

Richie stared at him for a moment, face unreadable, before he laughed. “Why would you jump straight to murder?!”

“I don’t know, my brain doesn’t work when I panic, you know that!”

“Oh my God, okay, listen,” Richie said, flopping onto Eddie’s bed slash sofa. Eddie warily sat next to him, as though maybe Richie’s crime _was_ murder and he expected to be the next victim. “It wasn’t anything serious, okay? If anyone asks, just tell them I spent the night because we were up late playing video games, and we slept in and have just been hanging out all day.”

Eddie had never wanted to smack somebody in the side of the head so badly.

“I hate you,” he said. 

“Love you, too, Spaghetti,” Richie said. Eddie pinched him on the arm for the nickname and he laughed. “Well, might as well play some video games since I’m here...”

Richie stood to grab the controllers, but when he did Eddie caught sight of the back of his black shirt, covered in what looked like blue paint. His eyes widened.

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” he hissed, standing quickly and yanking at the hem of Richie’s tee, already trying to figure out how they could burn it. 

“Uh -” Richie’s voice cracked and his face was bright red as Eddie pulled the shirt over his head. He’d never seen Richie so... _Embarrassed_? No, he didn’t think so. He couldn’t quite read his expression, which happened so rarely that when it did it frustrated him. Richie seemed to sway on the spot, moving closer to him before standing straight and shaking his head a little. “I’m sorry, I don’t... Um, what are you -”

Eddie held up the shirt so Richie could see the smeared blue paint. His body reacted as though he were a puppet whose strings had been cut, made a strange choked off noise, and put a hand over his face, displacing his glasses so they covered his forehead.

“C’mon, dude, this is _evidence_ ,” Eddie said, shaking the shirt in front of his face. “What public property did you damage?”

Richie didn’t move his hand, but Eddie could see him take a shaky breath. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I gotta go.”

He dragged his hand down his face but turned before Eddie could see him and started walking to the door.

“Richie, what the fuck, you’re not even wearing a shirt!”

Richie laughed, a hollow, fake laugh, and he came back to Eddie to grab the shirt, keeping his head down. Eddie watched him with furrowed brows and downturned lips, handing him the shirt when he reached for it. Richie turned back around and put it on, the paint on the back now right in front of Eddie.

“Richie, that shirt has paint on it,” he said. “You’re gonna get caught, at least put on something different so you don’t end up in fucking campus jail or something.”

“ _Better than here_.”

It was muttered under his breath, but Eddie heard it. It felt like his own strings had been cut. For a moment he had no idea what was happening, but when he realized it was like being doused with cold water.

“Rich, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Richie’s shoulders tensed but he wasn’t walking away. “I didn’t mean to - You know me, I’m impulsive and stupid, those are like, my defining traits probably, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, like obviously it’s not okay to go around pulling other people’s shirts off, that’s fucking crazy. I’m really sorry. I just thought because we’re -”

_(so touchy, all the time)_

“- so close that it wasn’t a big deal. But that was like, violating, or whatever, I don’t know what word it is, but it was wrong. I -”

“God, Eddie, shut _up_ ,” Richie pleaded, sounding on the verge of something - anger? Tears? 

“Sorry,” he whispered, biting his lip.

“That’s not - you didn’t do anything wrong,” Richie said. He swallowed. “You’re right, we’re close all the time, like, I literally just barged into your apartment like it’s my own, there aren’t - we don’t exactly have well-defined boundaries.” He let out a hollow laugh. 

“Then I don’t understand, Richie, I...” He trailed off as Richie turned around, meeting him with a flushed face and red eyes.

“I...” He looked at the floor, like he’d lost the nerve to look at Eddie, and Eddie’s stomach dropped. Richie cleared his throat quietly. “I misinterpreted, uh, what was happening, I guess. And I reacted like - And it was... Then I realized I was wrong and I need to, like, process that. Um, like, by myself. So I should probably be the sorry one? But don’t... um, don’t beat yourself up or whatever. I’m fine.”

Richie was staring at his own feet, hands fidgeting behind his back. Eddie let the words sink into his brain, trying to unscramble what Richie was trying to tell him, because what the fuck is he if not the person that understands Richie best? 

“Um,” he said, to give himself more time to think. If Richie misinterpreted him taking his shirt off, then what did he think was happening? 

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes stung.

“Rich,” he said quietly, cautiously taking a step closer and taking it as a good sign when Richie didn’t move. “Did you think I was...”

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted before Eddie could finish the sentence. “I’m _sorry_ that I thought - but I need to go, okay?”

He was finally looking up, his eyes a little wide and scared and he was turning to leave.

“No, Rich, wait,” he called, his head spinning.

“Please don’t ask me to stay, or follow me, I’m about to start crying and I don’t want -”

Eddie rushed forward to catch up with him and when he did, he stepped in front of the path to the front door. Richie made a choked noise that left an ache in Eddie’s chest. He put his hands on Richie’s cheeks and relaxed a little when he felt they were still dry.

“You didn’t let me respond,” he said. Richie was looking up toward the ceiling, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was to avoid eye contact or keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t realize that was something you wanted.”

Richie laughed without humor. Eddie hated it. How long had he been missing this? He was supposed to know Richie best, how did he not see it? 

“I...” A tear spilled over and he angrily wiped it away with a muttered _fuck_. “I’m usually okay about it, I’m not like... Wasting away pining for you or anything, I stopped doing that in like eleventh grade. I don’t want you to think - You know, it’s just kind of there. And I didn’t want you to know because I know you, and you’d beat yourself up about it thinking you were hurting me or something, but it’s not like that, I don’t usually cry about you, it was just - like, ten seconds of hope that I’ve never had before but it was _stupid_...”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks but he didn’t care. Richie still wasn’t looking at him so he whispered _hey, look at me_. He watched Richie swallow thickly before meeting his eyes, and one of his hands found its way into Richie’s hair. 

“I don’t need you to let me down easy or anything, just...” He trailed off as Eddie moved closer.

“Even though you made it sound really lame, I should tell you I’m still...” He licked his lips when their noses brushed. “I’m still in the pining phase.”

Suddenly hands gripped his hips tightly, clinging like he never wanted to let go. Eddie’s breath hitched and then they were kissing, soft and slow. When they parted, Eddie opened his eyes without realizing he’d even closed them. Richie looked dumbstruck, and Eddie giggled a little, embarrassed.

“Stop looking at me like that, weirdo,” he said, ducking his head. They were so close he felt Richie’s breath when he laughed.

“You should know I lied, about the pining thing,” Richie said, starting to sound a little more conversational and a little less like a wounded animal. Eddie kept him close, one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Never left the pining stage.”

Eddie snorted.

“God, you fucking _snort_ cute, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He groused, pinching Eddie’s side and making him laugh.They came together naturally, lips brushing before Eddie pulled back and cleared his throat.

“Um, you know I, like,” he paused awkwardly. Richie waited. Eddie huffed. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, Eds, we’re best friends, I’m well aware you’re a fucking virgin.”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not that weird!”

Richie pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, a tiny space between them. “It’s a little weird.”

“Waiting until you find somebody you’re in love with someone isn’t that uncommon,” Eddie huffed, the line something he’d said many times.

Richie grinned at him. “So... Found anybody?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Eddie glanced around the room as though looking for someone, then looked back at Richie. “Hm, no, don’t see anyone.”

They both laughed, and Richie dragged them over to the bed slash sofa and kissed him as soon as they were sitting down. Eddie didn’t let it go too far, still a little nervous and antsy, but Richie held him against his chest anyway and smiled like he never needed anything more.

“Hey,” Eddie said suddenly after a few minutes of quiet, startling Richie who had almost fallen asleep. “What did you do? Like, the illegal thing.”

Richie snorted. “Eds, I wish I could tell you I was off leaving a meaningful message of protest, calling some dickbag somewhere out, but alas, my love...”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me Eds. And seriously. What did you fucking do?”

Richie grinned. “I spray painted a dick on the student center fountain.”

“ _Richie!_ ”


End file.
